The View From Here
by kg2
Summary: Completely A/U. Olivia and Fitz are attending college in Chicago. He's just three years older than her. They both have overbearing families and confidence issues but can't deny their initial attraction to each other. What happens when Olivia and Fitz meet in college and try to navigate the world together and apart? [My third fanfic ever, and the first that is totally A/U.]
1. Chapter 1

Olivia sat on the folding lounge chair, drinking spiked lemonade out of a red plastic cup. She was celebrating the last night of her freshman year of college at Northwestern University. Having grown up on the east coast in a small town in Connecticut, her college decision had baffled her parents. She could have gone to NYU or UConn or Columbia, but had selected Northwestern for two things. First, its School of Journalism. She had wanted to be a journalist since her first writing class in high school, probably since before that. Northwestern had a distinguished reputation and would, she hoped, prepare her for the career she was hoping for. Second, it was in Chicago. Far from Connecticut, her overbearing parents and brothers, and an uneventful high school experience.

She loved her family. They meant everything to her. But she was the baby, and she had followed in some big footsteps. Her father, Caleb, was a professor of physics at the University of Connecticut. A true scientist. Her brothers, Anthony and Elijah, had inherited his scientific mind and followed him to distinguished universities to study chemistry and biogenetics. In addition to their book smarts, her father and brothers were also boisterous and opinionated. The lives of any party they attended, big or small, they commanded attention and respect. Olivia's mother, Simone, ran a successful photography business, photographing families, children and weddings. Olivia knew she had inherited her creative streak from her mother, as well as her tendency to shrink next to the other members of her family. Simone, and Olivia, both laughed at the stories being told, but rarely participated in the telling. It was just easier to be a bystander. Olivia had things to contribute. She had a lot to say. And that was why she was sitting in a lounge chair on a beautiful May evening in Chicago.

She had made two close friends during her first year of college. Emily, a Chicago native also pursuing journalism and her roommate, and Joanna, or Jo, originally from Florida and studying art history and Italian. Olivia had been drawn to these girls for the drive they had to succeed despite external forces like family or finances trying to stop them. Emily's parents were both lawyers and fully expected journalism to be a phase. Jo had a partial scholarship and a lot of loans, but was still studying what she loved. Their friendship had been almost immediate. They met on move-in day, after Olivia's parents had left for the airport and she was sitting in the room waiting for whatever happened next. When Emily walked in and they met for the first time, Olivia was immediately at ease. She was blonde, but not a bombshell. She had an air of happiness and confidence that Olivia fed off of. After Emily's parents had left, Emily and Olivia wandered the halls and found Joanna alone in her room with tears streaming down her face. She had driven from Florida alone and was unpacking what few belongings she had. Olivia and Emily, without speaking, entered the room, introduced themselves and the rest just fell into place. The Three Amigos were born.

Olivia hadn't branched out that much. She was comfortable having just a few close friends, and she didn't have a lot of experience in the branching-out department. Her high school social life was dull. She hadn't dated, hadn't had many close friends and had been on the perimeter of most social situations. She was liked, but not needed, and that had been fine with her. So when Emily and Jo went to parties they heard about in the cafeteria, or from friends they had made in class, Olivia usually declined. They had always planned to sit on the grassy area near the lake with their spiked lemonade on the last day of school, and Olivia had been wrong in assuming it would be just the three of them. There were some other girls there whom she had never met, as well as a few boys. Men. Whatever.

Olivia wasn't involved in the party game being played by the group. She was staring out at the lake. It was dark, with only the lights of a few sailboats dotting the horizon. She was going to miss Chicago. In only nine months, she had grown to love it. She was making a list in her head of all the restaurants she would visit upon returning in August when she heard a chair slide closer to her. She pretended not to notice, didn't turn her head, and then felt a warm body lean over the arm of her chair. The hair on her arms stood up. She was only wearing a sleeveless shirt and a light sweater.

"What's out there?" the gravely voice said. His breath smelled like cinnamon.

She turned and tried to keep her poker face. The boy, the man, smiling at her was different than anyone she had seen in her classes or around campus. He had a gleam in his grey-blue eyes, a face chiseled, either because of genetics or scars or both. His half-smile or smirk was both annoying and adorable. She ran her eyes down the length of his arm that was around the back of her chair. He was just wearing a white t-shirt, but Olivia saw all she needed to see. This man was attractive. He was self-assured. He was everything her family had warned her about and more.

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"Not yet. I'm Fitz. I had a class with your friend Jo. Italian."

"Italian, huh?"

"Si," he said smiling. "That's about all I learned. I needed some credits and have always wanted to learn another language."

"So you're close to graduating, then?" Olivia asked, wondering what he meant by needing credits.

"One year," he said, smiling.

"Nice. What's next?" She was just making small talk. At that, she was a professional.

"Well, I'd tell you, but I barely know you."

She stared.

"Your name?" he asked.

"Oh," she said, looking out to the lake again. "Olivia."

"It's nice to meet you," Fitz said.

"You as well."

"Wow. How long has it been, thirty seconds and already the brush-off? I'm hurt," he said, following her gaze out to the lake. "I can take a hint. But before I go, really, what are you looking at out there?"

She sighed. "It wasn't a brush-off, I'm just not the best at this," she said, gesturing between the two of them.

"Conversation?" he asked.

She hit him lightly on the arm. "Talking to randoms at parties is more what I meant."

"I see." He looked at her, then nodded toward the lake.

"I was counting the boats, and just thinking about Chicago. I love it here. I'm going to miss it this summer. And I was thinking about how long it would take to swim or boat to the other side. To Michigan. What that would feel like, look like. The sounds and the sights and the tastes."

She finished talking, but Fitz didn't respond. She turned her head slowly. He was staring at her.

"What?" she asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"That was not the answer I was expecting," he said, brushing his hands on his jeans and standing. "Will you come with me?" he said, offering her his hand.

"Now? Where?"

"It's a five minute walk. We can tell your friends you're leaving and alert the authorities."

"That's not necessary. I just," she began.

"Don't usually leave parties with people you just met?"

"Something like that," she said, standing, but avoiding his hand.

She nodded to Jo, who smiled broadly. Olivia shook her head. She could tell Jo had been hoping this would happen.

They walked along the shore, through tall grass and eventually ended up at a long dock. Olivia had seen it before from the window of one of her classes, but hadn't known how to get down to it.

"Please take my hand. It's a little rickety, and I don't want you to hurt yourself," Fitz said, putting his hand out to her for the second time.

Reluctantly, she took it. It was warm, and big, and completely enveloped hers. There was a moment before they started moving where she saw Fitz look at their hands intertwined and then shake his head quickly, as if waking himself up from a daydream.

"It's further out than you think," he said, leading her to the end of the dock. They had to be at least 50 feet from shore, if not more.

"Now, do this," he said. He took his hands and cupped them around his eyes, blocking out his peripheral vision. She did the same, with a questioning look in her eyes.

"Trust me," he said. "Now, face directly out to the water."

She turned her body and did.

"Last direction, close your eyes, clear your mind, and then open them again."

"Okay," she said, in almost a whisper.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them.

All she saw was darkness. No boats. No city lights. No clouds, no sky, no water. Just darkness.

"It's so different," she said.

"The view changes completely, right?" he said. "It's like all of the other stuff just disappears. All you can hear are the waves. I love it."

"It's like magic," she said.

"Clears my head. I thought it might come in handy for you sometime. We can head back."

Fitz took his hands down and saw she was still standing with hers around her eyes, looking out at the lake. He watched her, not wanting to disrupt anything about the universe. She was breathing so quietly that she herself almost disappeared, except that ever since he had sat down next her he had felt a connection between them. She was right there. He would never forget this feeling, even if he never saw her again after tonight. And god, she was beautiful. Her creamy brown skin, rosy cheeks, big eyelashes (he had noticed them earlier), petite frame, nice body. All of it was beautiful. More beautiful than Lake Michigan or the ranch he had grown up on in Oklahoma.

She took her hands down and looked at him.

"Fitz, this was amazing. Perfect for my last night. Thank you for sharing this with me," she said. Something in her knew that even though he had probably been with a lot of women, he didn't bring them all here for relaxation and quiet time.

"You're welcome," he said. "Should we head back?"

"We probably should," she said, and she started leading the way down the dock. About halfway to shore, she stumbled. Fitz had been watching her very carefully, but even his quick reflexes weren't enough to stop her sideways momentum. He grabbed for her arm to try and stop her, but within seconds they were both bobbing in the water. It hadn't had a chance to heat up and was still way too cold for swimming.

Olivia put her legs down and realized she could almost stand. Her teeth chattered.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asked. "You didn't hit your head or anything?"

"Nope, just went straight in sideways. Graceful as always, that's me," she said, laughing through her chattering teeth.

"You okay to swim the rest of the way? It's just about 25 yards, I think."

"Yeah, I love swimming, and I can almost touch. And I can redeem myself a little."

She took off and beat him to the rocky shore. They climbed the rock wall back to the dock. Fitz put his arms around her instinctually. They were both freezing.

"Leave it to me to ruin the moment," she said, shaking her head. Her whole body shook.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said, helping he squeeze some water out of her hair which was now curling and frizzing. He rested his hands on her back and gave her a good entire body a good squeeze.

Olivia felt it immediately. She hadn't known that she would recognize attraction when it happened because it never had. But the feeling in her chest, and heat she suddenly felt in her body that was actually shaking with cold, she knew that was it.

Fitz felt it, too. He had had a girlfriend in high school for whom he cared a great deal, but she had gone to Oklahoma and was already engaged to running back on the football team. He had dated girls at Northwestern, but nobody seriously. But he knew what he was feeling when his hands ran up and down Olivia's back. He just didn't know what to do with it.

Olivia noticed that the self-assuredness she had observed earlier was gone. Fitz seemed to be in a trance. Almost frozen. She stepped back.

"We should go. I have some blankets in my room," she said.

"So do I. I mean, I have some in my apartment," he said, "and it's really close to here. That's how I found this place."

"Thank you, really, but I should head home. I'm just going straight to the hottest shower of my life."

She hadn't meant to give him a mental image of her in a steamy shower, but that is exactly what she did. He coughed once, cleared his throat, and stepped back immediately. He didn't want her to think less of him for being turned on. It wasn't like that. She was different.

"Sure, I'll walk you," he said, reaching out his hand to help her up the steps.

"No, it's okay, I can get there," she said.

"Olivia, I'm walking you. Come on."

He started up the steps but turned around repeatedly to make sure she was still there. She watched him from behind. She could see the outline of every muscle under his wet t-shirt. His jeans clung to his legs. His curly hair was trying to become unslicked from his head. She tried to stop imagining him in his shower, but she couldn't. When they got to the grass, they had to go their separate ways.

"Listen, Olivia, I'm sorry about our unexpected swim. I feel terrible."

"Don't! It was refreshing. My night went a lot differently than I had planned," she said.

He took one step toward her.

"Different good, or different bad?"

She tilted her head and looked into his eyes. What could she do? She could lie, but she had a sense he would see right through that, just like he could probably see right through her shirt.

"Different good," she said, smiling.

He smiled. It was like a switch was flipped. He was back to feeling confident. He took one more step and closed the gap between them.

"Same with me," he said, grabbing the bottom of her sweater and wringing out some more water. He didn't let go.

"Thank you, again," she said, breaking eye contact and stepping back. "Have a good summer, Fitz."

She turned and started walking away. She knew, she could sense, that he was watching her.

"Olivia?" he called out.

She stopped and turned but said nothing.

"I'll see you in August."

She smiled. He could see it even though she had walked away. She smiled and nodded slightly, then turned and headed back to her dorm.

It was going to be a long summer, indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's what Olivia learned about Fitz on the internet during the summer months.

He was born and raised in Oklahoma on a cattle ranch that had been in his family for generations. He had played football and lacrosse in high school.

That's it. He didn't have a Facebook page. A Google search only linked to articles about his family's ranch as well as some archived results from high school game recaps.

She searched Jo's Facebook photos a million times, wondering if Fitz had ever been at any of the parties Olivia had said no to. But she knew she would have remembered his face during her first time seeing the photos.

Olivia spent her summer working as an assistant at her father's laboratory, typing up his notes, cleaning up the lab, and doing other tedious tasks that had nothing to do with the career she wanted. She spent her free time, and there was a lot of it, on the internet. She searched for journalism jobs or internships she could get after her sophomore year. She searched for Fitz. She chatted and skyped with Emily and Jo. By the time August rolled around, her desire to be back in Chicago was stronger than ever.

* * *

Here's what Fitz learned about Olivia on the internet during the summer months.

She was from a small town outside of Hartford, Connecticut. She had been on the swim team. She liked taking selfie photographs with her friends from college, Joanna and Emily. She seemed to be working at some sort of laboratory over the summer according to her witty status updates. She had a blog, but it was password protected.

He had found all of this information with the help of his sister Heidi. She was Olivia's age and a freshman at Oklahoma State. She was also extremely Facebook savvy and had helped Fitz find her page.

Fitz spent his summer working on the ranch. There's a lot to be done on a cattle ranch during the summer months, and most of it takes place before 9am because of the heat. He spent his mornings outdoors, his early afternoons resting, and his evenings hanging out with his friends from high school. Mostly they would just drive out on the land in someone's truck, blast music and drink beer. Occasionally they would head into town, though town was just one street, one restaurant and one saloon. It was called The Saloon. Late at night is when he did what he enjoyed most for relaxing, which was reading. He read classics and new releases. He even found himself reading the latest young adult literature. He took notes about the stories in a journal he kept under his mattress, and when he was reading something that reminded him of something else, he would use the notebook for reference. His days and nights were full, his body was tanned, and by the time it was ready to head north to Chicago, he was ready for the break from home.

* * *

There had been a lot of discussion about where the Three Amigos should live for their sophomore year, and they had finally decided on a three bedroom, one bathroom coach house on campus in Evanston. It was a tight space, but it was private and cozy and the girls spent all summer deciding how it would be decorated. Olivia's parents met Emily's parents and Jo's father on move-in day. As always, Caleb Pope took over the conversation, leaving the girls, including their mothers, to set up the house. Olivia had taken the smallest bedroom, the only room on the top floor of the house.

"Well, it will be quiet for your studies," her mother said slowly.

"I know it's tight. But it's private, and it feels good up here I think."

"It does, you're right. And I have one more thing to add," Simone said, pulling a 4x6 frame out of her purse.

It was a photograph of Olivia and her mother, smiling in front of the Art Institute in Chicago during one of her visits to see Olivia last year.

"One of my favorites of us. Just to remind you that home isn't all bad." She smiled.

"I love you, Mom," Olivia said, wrapping her arms around her mother. She knew her mom was worried that Olivia would never return after college. She was right to be worried.

Olivia placed the frame on her desk.

"I'll see you in two months for parents' weekend. And you can text now, so let's do that."

"I'll do my best," Simone said as they made their way down the small staircase to the living room of the house. It only fit a couch and a small TV stand, and it led into the small galley kitchen. The bonus was that there was a washer and dryer in the unfinished basement. When the girls had seen it, they had asked to sign a lease immediately.

* * *

Fitz moved into the same house he had lived in since he was a sophomore. He had made the drive alone from Oklahoma in his SUV. He didn't plan on going home until Thanksgiving. He would visit his sister, and maybe other friends around the country, but he wouldn't be going home.

Walking into the house, he found his three roommates already there and playing foosball. They had purchased the table from a yard sale a year ago and it had replaced video games as their go-to activity. He hugged Tyler and Trey, the twin brothers from Chicago he had met during orientation and Andrew, from Indiana, who had been in a class with Fitz during his freshman year. The four had become fast friends after moving in together and it made this part of the process so easy. They kept the same bedrooms, didn't have to pack every year, and respected each other's space and privacy.

Fitz walked to the back of the first floor to his bedroom, the only room on the first floor of the house. He had taken it because the guys were concerned about the noise level when they were studying, and that hadn't been a concern of Fitz's. He dropped his bag on his bed, ran his fingers through his hair and decided to go for a walk. His muscles were tight after the long drive.

* * *

Olivia was walking around campus, waiting for her friends to be done at the bookstore. She had pre-reserved her books so the process had been quick. She knew Emily and Jo would be wandering the aisles and then waiting in line for at least thirty minutes. She was wearing red shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt and her black backpack. She found herself making her way toward the dock Fitz had showed her months ago. She wasn't sure she would remember the way, given it had been dark and she had been slightly tipsy. She was standing on top of a small bluff at the edge of campus. She could see the dock, but couldn't remember how to get to the stairs. She was about to give up when she heard footsteps on the sidewalk behind her and turned.

"Hello there," Fitz said, blushing before the second word was even out of his mouth. Just her eyes on him made him blush.

"Hello," she said, struggling to come up with a way to explain what she was doing in the spot where they had last seen each other.

"Heading for a swim?" he said, smiling. It was a full smile, not the smirk she had seen the last time they spoke. The first night they met.

"Very funny. I was just passing some time and thought I'd try to find the spot, but I got stuck here."

"Here, I'll take your bag. Let's go together," he said, putting out his arm.

"It's alright, I got it."

"Olivia, let me carry your bag."

"I can carry it! Thank you though."

He sighed heavily and she followed him. She was glad to be behind him, because she was smiling uncontrollably. She was back on campus, in a city she loved with the person who had consumed most of her thoughts for the previous three months. All of her ideas about having Jo orchestrate another meeting were unnecessary. Here he was.

They found the steps and Fitz turned.

"So, either I'm carrying your bag or you are leaving it here. You can't take these stairs with that thing."

She put her hands on the straps of the backpack.

"It's not that heavy."

"Sure. Whatever. Leave it here if you're too proud to have me carry it."

"It's not, fine, here," she said, pulling it off of her back and handing it to him.

"Lord, that's fucking heavy," he said, putting it on his back. "How many classes?"

"Five. I'm a journalism major. There are a lot of books."

"I can feel that. But better me than you on these things."

He started down the stairs. When they made it to the bottom, he set her bag down and they headed out to the dock. When they got to the end, because it was light and they could see, they removed their shoes (flip flops, both of them) and sat next to each other, their feet dangling in the water.

"Feels a lot warmer than the last time," Olivia said, smiling.

"Definitely," Fitz said, lifting his head to soak up the early afternoon sun. He kept his eyes closed. "How was your summer?"

"Typical. I worked, did some reading and writing, and counted the days until I was back here. You?"

"Almost exactly the same, actually."

"Those are some hefty tan lines. What kind of work did you do?"

He turned to look at her and shaded his eyes from the sun.

"You were looking at my arms?"

"You're sitting right here. Don't flatter yourself," she said, though yes, she had been looking at his arms.

"We'll get back to that in a second. To answer your question, I worked on my family's cattle ranch. The morning sun isn't as strong, but when you do the same thing every day for three months, it takes a toll."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"I don't."

She laughed.

"What?" he asked.

"It's just, you didn't even have to think about your response. I like it."

"Did you like your summer job?"

"Hated it."

He laughed, and so did she. When the laughter stopped, they fell into a comfortable silence. Their arms were behind them, and they were both leaning back, enjoying the feel of the cool water on their feet and the warm sun on their faces.

"So, you were checking out my arms."

"I wasn't."

"It's okay if you were."

"Great, thank you, but I wasn't."

They went on like this for a minute, neither of them looking at each other, just bantering as they basked in the sun. When Olivia felt Fitz's arm move from beside her, she was snapped out of her trance. She had been so comfortable sitting next to him. And arguing with him.

"Olivia, confession time."

She sat up.

"I've thought about you a little bit over the last few months."

She smiled. "A little bit?"

"Yes. And I was hoping to see you again. This arguing, while enjoyable, could go on forever. Or I can just do us both a favor and say what we're both thinking."

"You know what I'm thinking now?"

"I'm hot."

She scoffed. "Excuse me? That's what I'm thinking? Even if it was, which I am not confirming, it's pretty presumptuous of you to assume, don't you think?"

"See, I meant that the sun is getting to us and we should find some shade. But if you were talking about my attractiveness, color me surprised."

She hit him playfully. "You are so annoying, you know that?

"It's because I'm not good at this," he said, making the same gesture she had made the first night they met.

"Conversation?" she asked, remembering the exchange herself.

"Conversation with women I like. I've been told by some, namely my roommates and my sister, that I come off sounding like a pompous asshole when I'm trying to flirt. I fear that is what just happened and I was just trying to be funny."

"You are correct. You sounded like a pompous asshole."

He sighed and turned to her. "Did you hear the part about me liking you?"

She tensed. Of course she had heard it. And somehow she had escaped telling him of her frivolous search for information on him. But she didn't know what to do next. So, she just nodded.

"And, do you have thoughts about that, or is that topic the one thing about which you have nothing to say?"

"I have thoughts. I'm formulating them. I need a minute."

"By all means."

When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her.

"Look, Fitz. I have liked both occasions that I have spent time with you here. But I don't know what to do next. I'm not good at navigating social situations. I have a comfort zone and I stay in it. You should know that about me."

"Noted," he said.

There was silence as they just stared at each other.

"So we're both terrible at this and we both hated our summer jobs. Two good commonalities, I'd say. A good starting point."

She smiled.

"We also both like reading."

"You were listening?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied.

"Favorite book?" he asked.

They went on like this for another fifteen minutes or so. It was the best non-first date either of them had ever had. It was closest Olivia had come to a date in her life. But she knew that her friends would be looking for her, and so she had to ask Fitz to check his phone for the time.

"I should go. Emily and Jo are probably wondering what happened."

She started to stand, but he hopped up and helped her. They were standing facing each other.

"What will you tell them?" he asked, softly. They weren't touching, but they were as close as they could be otherwise.

"That I ran into you. We talked. Enjoyed the water."

He looked at her curiously. "Gotcha," he said. "Well then, let's go."

He turned and started walking down the dock toward shore, faster than she had ever seen him walk. She stood there immobile, waiting for him to realize that she hadn't followed. When he did, he stopped and turned, then slowly started walking back toward her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She walked toward him and met him in the middle.

"I'll also tell them that I was happy to see you, because I had Googled you this summer."

His face changed slowly into a smile.

"That's all I can give for now."

"That's more than I hoped for," he said. He reached up and wanted to tuck one of the hairs that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear, but stopped himself.

"You hoped for something?"

"I hoped I'd see you again. I hoped you wouldn't run in the opposite direction. I call today a win."

She laughed. "We should get going,"

They walked to shore next to each other, their arms touching. He picked up her bag without argument from Olivia and carried it up the steps. When they got to the top, he handed it to her.

"Can I see you again?"

"You can."

He laughed. "May I? May I have your phone number so that I might contact you regarding a social outing?"

"You may," she said, telling him her number as he punched it into his phone. "Sorry, my parents were manners and grammar people."

"I can relate. Olivia, thank you for a surprisingly wonderful welcome back. I'll talk to you soon."

"Sounds good," she said, and then both turned toward where they needed to go.

"Olivia?" he called, when he was a little bit of a distance away.

She stopped and turned.

He ran back to her and breathlessly kissed her on the cheek.

"Bye," he said, smiling and putting his hand on his mouth as he walked away.

She stood silently. Her brain was a jumbled mess, and it wasn't because of the sun.

* * *

A half an hour later, after rinsing off in the shower, Fitz was lying on his bed, thinking about how his lips had felt against Olivia's cheek. The butterflies in his stomach for the entire duration of their time together. Her smile. He laugh. His phone was in his hand. He knew it was too soon to call. So he waited until 9:30, figuring she would be out at a welcome party or busy with her friends. He was about to head out himself, but he wanted to hear her voice, even if it was just on a voicemail greeting.

She didn't answer. He listened to her greeting, then left a message.

"Olivia, hi, it's Fitz. I was just thinking, well, I was thinking about earlier and you and wanted to say hello. I hope you're having a fun evening. Call me when you can. When you are able. Talk to you soon, I hope."

* * *

She listened to his message and smiled. She picked up on his grammar correction and it only took two listens for her to understand that he had simply been calling to say hi. She should have answered. She wasn't at a party, she was watching the news. Emily and Jo were still setting up their bedrooms downstairs. She waited what she thought would be a safe fifteen minutes before calling him back. He didn't answer.

"Hi Fitz, it's me. Olivia. I'm sorry I missed your call. I'm around tonight, just didn't hear the phone. It was nice to hear you. Hear from you. Bye."

She hated herself immediately.

* * *

Fitz listened to the message on the deck outside of the party he was visiting with Andrew. He smiled. He sent Andrew a quick text and called Olivia. This time, she answered.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi. Got your message. What're you up to?"

"I'm watching television, setting up my room. You?"

"I was at a party."

"You were?"

"I was. And now I'm walking toward campus but I need your address."

She sat up and inhaled sharply.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see you, and because I want to talk to you."

"It's almost 11:00. Why don't we make plans for tomorrow?"

"We can do that. But I'm seeing you tonight. I can always call Jo if I need to."

"No!" she said, almost too forcefully. She hadn't told her roommates about her earlier encounter with Fitz. She was still trying to process it herself. If he came over now, they'd see him. If she left, they'd ask why. But if she said no, she'd be lying to him and herself. She gave her address.

"Will you text me when you're here? I'll meet you on the porch."

"Yes. See you in ten."

"It's longer than that."

"I'm jogging," he said, ending the call.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Shorts and a t-shirt, again. Her hair was down, at least. She put on some lips gloss and headed downstairs. She stood in Emily's door and explained the situation. Emily squealed, which brought Jo over from next door. She explained again. Another squeal. Before she had to deal with it, her phone buzzed. It had been seven minutes.

"Holy crap," Emily said. "He really did jog."

"I knew it!" Jo said. "Go get 'im, girl."

Olivia rolled her eyes, steadied herself and walked to the front porch.

Fitz was sitting on the front step. She joined him.

"Seven minutes. That's impressive," she said, nudging him a little with her right shoulder.

"Motivation is everything," he said, looking at her.

"You know, for someone who thinks they aren't good at this, you sure do have a way of making a girl feel special."

"Yeah?" he said.

"Yeah. Why do you think you're bad at it?"

He thought about how to respond. The truth was that he hadn't felt anything for a girl in three years. He had some one-night stands, some two- or three-night stints, but he hadn't felt anything. He had turned off his emotions when he left Oklahoma and focused on studying and finding a way out. That hadn't left a lot of room for feelings. On the couple of occasions when he really tried talking to women, it always ended with him putting up a barrier that left them frustrated or offended. He was smart and funny but when used as a weapon against feelings he was neither of those things.

But he didn't say all of that. Instead, he tried to summarize it as best he could.

"I don't have a lot of experience, and like I said before, I usually let my ego get in the way of anything real happening."

She nodded. "That makes sense."

They returned to the space of the comfortable quiet they had been in earlier on the dock. After a minute, Olivia turned to him.

"I'm glad you called," she said. "I was hoping you would."

He looked at her. "I waited as long as I could."

She blushed and looked down.

"Have you never had someone make you blush before?"

Of course she blushed again.

"Not so much. I went on a pre-date with my prom date senior year, and then to prom. That's about it."

"Wait, what?" he was incredulous.

"That's about it," she said, shrugging.

"You've been on two dates? None here?"

"I was busy last year, getting acclimated, trying to find my place, get good grades, make the case that I should stay. My parents were hoping I'd transfer. I didn't do a lot of socializing with people other than my roommates." She shrugged again.

"Please don't take this the wrong way. But if you had gone out, you would have been swarmed."

She looked at him. "Swarmed?"

"There's nobody like you. Trust me."

"You make me sound so mysterious."

"You sort of are. I just mean that I've been to some parties. You stand out. For me."

"I see."

"Olivia, I don't tend to leave places and jog to the homes of girls. I hope that's obvious."

"It is."

There was silence.

"Fitz?"

"Yeah"

"Why are you really here?"

He turned to her. She was gorgeous. Her brown eyes were intently focused on him. She was genuinely curious, but also had a slight smiles as if she knew the answer.

He put one arm behind her on the porch and scooted closer.

"I was honest before. I wanted to see you and talk to you."

She nodded, smiling. She turned her head.

He breathed in the scent of her lip gloss. Her lips were so close to his. He leaned in placed his lips ever-so-lightly on hers and immediately tasted the strawberry flavor. He heard her inhale.

He pulled away and looked at her. She smiled again.

"I was hoping that was why you came," she said.

With that, he kissed her again, this time with more force so that she almost lost her balance. He caught her back with his right arm and used his other to wrap her in his arms and pull her closer to him. She instinctually put her hands around his neck. Without realizing it, she opened her lips and invited him to explore her mouth with his tongue. He accepted the invitation, and she moaned with delight. She had kissed some boys, and slept with one, but none had felt like this. She tilted her head and Fitz began kissing her cheek, then her ear, then her neck. When he got to her collarbone, she felt her body physically shudder. By that time she was holding onto his hair with one hand and had her other on his chest. She just wanted to feel him. When he had kissed every inch of her face and neck, he stopped and looked up at her.

Of course this was why he had come. He hadn't known it at the time, but of course it was. They were both breathing heavily. Her hand was over his heart and he looked down at it then back up at her.

"Shit," he said.

"Yeah. Shit," she said, getting a hearty laugh from him in return.

"How would your parents feel about that language and fragment?"

"Don't care," she said, and she started their second make-out session of the evening.

Twenty minutes later, despite his body begging for more, he stopped kissing her. His lips were swollen and his mouth was dry. Her hair, which was down, was messed up from him moving it out of his way to kiss every inch of her.

"Do you want to have dinner tomorrow, before classes start?" he asked.

She laughed hysterically.

"What?"

"Of course I do. Thank you for asking."

"I'm a gentleman," he said, standing.

"Is that how gentleman give first kisses?" she asked, taking his help to stand and face him.

"Only for women like you," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

"I'll call you tomorrow to choose a place for dinner."

"Okay. Thanks for coming over, Fitz."

He smiled and looked at her. "I really don't want to go."

"But you should. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight, Olivia."

"'Night."

Later that night, they both laid in their beds, thinking about what had just happened between them. It defied logic. It went against what they both thought they knew about themselves. But it had felt so good, and neither of them could deny that.

The last thought Olivia had before she fell asleep was that she wondered what Fitz would like in long sleeves, or with no shirt at all.

The last thought Fitz had before he fell asleep was that he wondered what other flavor lip glosses Olivia had in her collection.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite their undeniable physical chemistry, Fitz and Olivia still had a lot to learn about each other. For example, he knew that she was a journalism major. She only knew he had taken beginner Italian for credit hours. That's where Olivia planned to start the conversation the next evening as they walked to a Greek restaurant for their first official date. He had told her to dress casually, so she was in skinny jeans, a black tank top and gold sandals. He was wearing plaid shorts, a grey t-shirt and slip on boat shoes. Their conversation got off of her intended track immediately.

"Are you sure you aren't from Connecticut?" she said, laughing when she opened the door. He had insisted on picking her up, even though they were walking.

"What do you mean?" he asked incredulously. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

"Nothing at all. You look adorable. But you also look like you spend your Saturdays sailing and have a junior membership at the country club."

He laughed. "Remember when you tried to tell me that you're shy?"

"I'm sorry. It's not criticism. I think you look," she began.

"Adorable. Right. Let's go, Pope," he said, taking her hand and looking at her sideways. If he was trying to portray anger, he wasn't doing a very good job.

* * *

When she opened the door, she looked like a Grecian goddess, not a college sophomore getting ready for gyros at the best joint in town, however casual it might be. He hair was wavy today, he assumed this must be how it was naturally. The first time he had seen her it had been almost completely straight, with just one curl near her face. She was only wearing light peach lipstick and maybe some shimmery powder. Her natural beauty was all she needed. All she would ever need. And her tank top covered just enough to leave him wishing their date was in her bedroom. He had to swallow and blink before he stepped toward her and greeted her.

After her comment about his outfit, he was feeling self-conscious. He had chosen the shorts because he had driven his sister to the mall far from their ranch before they both left for school, and she had said the shorts were trendy. The shoes were simply his most comfortable walking shoes. He hadn't been trying to be someone he wasn't, but he had been trying to be more than adorable. But as he held Olivia's hand and tried to be mad at her for calling him out, she stopped him.

"Fitz. Adorable is good. Adorable is, I don't want anyone else to have you. Adorable is, you put together a nice outfit for our casual date, and so did I, and so I'm glad we're on the same page. Adorable is good." She stood on her tiptoes and pecked him quickly on the lips, blushing as she did so.

"You have a way with words. You should pursue a writing career," he said, continuing their walk.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. That makes you, me and two of my teachers. Four people on the planet believe in me. You have to start somewhere, right?"

* * *

As soon as she made the sarcastic remark, she regretted it. She didn't want to reveal too much to Fitz. It was a mistake she had made with the one boy in high school who might have been her boyfriend had she not told him her life story, all 16 years of it, on their first movie and ice cream date. She heard through the grapevine later that he thought she was hot, but that she talked too much.

But Fitz seemed interested. He asked her to explain, so she very carefully told him about her family of scientific minds, about how she wrote but that it almost felt scandalous, like something she shouldn't be doing. But she was persistent, and she had excelled in her first year of classes at Northwestern's prestigious school of journalism. She didn't say that part, she just used it to try and show him that she had more than a pipe dream. She really wanted this. When they were seated at a small table with a blue and white plastic tablecloth and plastic silverware, she finally asked him about his major.

"History and English," he said. He looked at her with his eyebrows up, seemingly waiting for her to ask a question.

"Your classes must be so interesting," she said.

"They are," he said skeptically.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't you want to ask me what I plan to do with a double major in the humanities?"

"I mean, I was curious, but it wasn't going to be my next question."

"What was?"

"What?"

"Your next question?"

"Well, now it's what do you plan do with a double major in humanities?"

He half smiled, half smirked. "I'm sorry. It's just a bit of a sore subject."

"I'm sensing that," she said.

Their waitress came and took their order. Olivia just waited for him to continue.

"We're, the Grants, we're ranchers. The cattle ranch has been in my family for four generations. It's a big deal down there. Full time work. I spent my entire childhood working on that ranch. I was the first person in my family to attend the public high school instead of being homeschooled like my cousins. Everyone, and I mean everyone, in my family works on the ranch. Some of them have college degrees, some don't. But if they do, they're in agricultural studies, or environmental science, or even business."

Olivia nodded. Fitz took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. It was curly because of the humidity. She assumed he must have naturally wavy hair like hers.

"So, my choice of Northwestern, followed by choice of a double major, did not sit well with my parents. My dad sees me as his best successor, and my mom is a ranch wife who doesn't know any different. My cousins can run the ranch fine. My sister can if she decides she wants to. I just don't want to go back there. I just don't."

"You want to major in History and English so you can," Olivia gestured for him to complete the sentence.

"Teach."

She nodded. "High school? College?"

"College. I love talking about the works. Making connections. What you said before about my classes being interesting was astute. They are. And I've had some room to take others, like Italian where I met your roommate, or Graphic Design."

"Do your parents know how much you've enjoyed your time here? What joy it obviously brings you?"

He was quiet for a moment. He took her in. She was a damn good listener. And she made talking, sharing, a lot easier for him than it had ever been.

"They have been told. They do not believe me, but they have been told. Their assumption is that I'm doing it to be defiant. Just to bother them."

"We have that in common," she said.

"It's frustrating," he said.

"It is." She looked at him. The waitress brought their sodas.

"I don't usually tell that whole story. That was a very long answer to your question. I apologize for the first date over-share," he said.

"Don't," she said. "I wanted to know, and now I do."

* * *

Even with tzatziki sauce on her chin, she was beautiful. Their date continued with ease, except that all he wanted to do was reach across the table and kiss her. When she nodded as she spoke, or when she told a story about her apparently genius older brothers, or when she realized she had something on her chin and looked at him to see if he had noticed. He had told her more about himself than he told almost anyone in his life, with the exception of his roommate Andrew and his sister. But even Heidi didn't know that he was not planning on returning home. She supported his career choice, but assumed he would compromise and do it in Oklahoma. He had no such plans.

Olivia's passion for writing was palpable. When she talked about it, her already big eyes glowed.

"Do you write daily?" Fitz asked, finishing the last of his French fries.

"I try," she said.

"In a journal?"

"Something like that.

He knew she had a blog. He debated about telling her. He didn't want there to be secrets. She beat him to it, seeing the look on his face as he contemplated what to do or say next.

"I have a blog. It's just me, writing, thinking about loud. Nobody reads it. But that's what I meant," she said.

"I should tell you, I saw it."

"Saw what?"

"Your blog. It came up in my Google searching of you this summer. I couldn't access it, but I knew it was there."

"I see," she said, slowly.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be dishonest," he began.

"No, it's okay. I was just wondering if I needed to explain myself a little," she said, a sly, closed-mouth smile coming across her face.

He leaned forward. "Tell me more." He smiled.

"I write about things I'm thinking about. So, there's a chance someone with a knack for knowing the best spots on campus and with eyes and a smile that slay me might have come up. At some point."

He was out of his seat immediately and pulling her out of hers.

"Fitz!" she said, stumbling into him.

"Let's get out of here," he said, taking two twenty dollar bills and leaving them on the table.

He pulled her out on the street and into the nearest alley.

"I just need to do this, and then we can go back to our date," he said, putting his hands on her cheeks. Her head was titled slightly, waiting to see what he did next.

He kissed her forehead.

"You're amazing."

He kissed her right cheek.

"You're funny."

He kissed her left cheek.

"You're smart."

He kissed her chin.

"You're incredibly beautiful."

He held his face in front of hers. She was smiling. He rubbed his thumbs, somewhat calloused from years of working on the ranch, across her cheeks.

"I'm going to kiss you know," he said.

"Yes, please," she said quietly.

He shook his head, smiling.

* * *

She had wanted to kiss him when she first saw him on her porch. It surprised her that it had taken this long. It started slowly. She could feel his eyelashes on her face, in contrast to the coarseness of his large hands that practically engulfed her. She held onto his large forearms with her hands and stood on her tiptoes, which encouraged him to continue.

The kiss deepened. She explored his mouth her tongue. Nibbled on his lower lip, much to his delight. He kissed her lips, he cheeks, her chin, every inch of her, just as he had the previous night. It left her breathless.

When she finally rolled back onto the balls of her feet, he stopped.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, you're just tall. I need to rest my toes for a minute."

He smiled, and then laughed in a way that sound part-laugh, part-growl. Before she could stop him, he picked her up and she had no choice but to put her legs around his waist. His hands wrapped around her upper thighs.

"Fitz, put me down! I'll crush you," she said.

"Light as a fucking feather, Liv," he said, kissing her neck.

She couldn't tell if he had meant to say 'Liv' or if he was just too busy kissing her to say all of the syllables of her name. But she liked it. She held onto his hair and looked up at the night school, giving him access to her bare neck and shoulders. She nibbled on his ears when she felt his hands dig deeper into her thighs. She couldn't contain the small moan that escaped her lips. She could have stayed in his grasp forever. But they weren't far off the road, and the shout of 'Get a room!' broke their spell.

He sighed heavily and put his head on her chest, slowly lowering her to the ground. Her knees were weak. She had always thought it was just saying, but she truly felt like she might not be able to stand for much longer.

"So," he said, "where were we?"

They both burst out laughing, and he put his arm around her shoulder, and she put hers around his waist, and then rejoined the world and walked toward her house.

* * *

It amazed him how they could go from kissing the way they had, which was more intense of a moment than he had ever shared with a woman, to just walking with their arms around each other, talking about their course load for the semester.

"How are you going to manage all of those classes?" he asked.

"I'll find a way. I like to be busy."

"Will there be room for me?"

She stopped.

Had he gone too far? This had been the best first date of his life. He was enamored with her. He didn't want to spend a minute without her and he had barely scratched the surface of what there was to learn about her. But he wondered if he had made a mistake when he let his guard down and just said what he was feeling without thinking.

* * *

He turned to face her, his face full of questions. So he had been feeling it too. The oddness of the connection, the way it felt different and better and confusing all at once. She crossed her arms.

"I can make room, I want to, if that's what you're asking."

He nodded wordlessly.

"Okay then," she said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I just sort of said it. We can just date, it doesn't have to be a thing," he said, though she sensed he didn't really mean it.

"Is that what you want?" she said, challenging him to be honest.

"No."

"So?"

"I'd like to see you, and only you. And to be honest, I don't know what that looks like in college, but I'd like to figure it out. With you. For you. Together."

"Ah, I see, so you're not an expert then? Haven't brought a lot of girls to that alley?"

He shook his head and looked down.

"It was a joke Fitz. I'm sure you've been with lots of girls. They'd be crazy not to throw themselves at you."

He was about to protest, but she softly put her fingers over his lips.

"But, if it's okay with you, I'd like to be the only one doing that from now on."

His lips curled into a smile under her touch. He kissed her hand.

"More than okay," he said, taking her hand and putting it around his neck, then turning and holding onto it as they made the rest of the walk back to her house.

* * *

He might as well have been walking on air. He felt like Hercules, like he could carry her and the weight of a million people and still feel nothing. She was feeling it too. He had wondered if it was just him, hadn't really known how to read the signs. Even though the kiss, the kisses, had been beyond perfect, he still wasn't sure of himself. Not until she told him.

When they got to her porch, she went up a step then turned and put her arms on his shoulders.

"You want to see my room?"

"Yes. But," he began.

"Don't worry. Just a tour. I might want to throw myself at you, but I'm not that easy. I just want you to be able to picture where I am when you're thinking about me."

He groaned. "I don't know how that is a good idea."

"It'll make you get to me faster," she said, and she escorted him inside.

* * *

Jo and Emily were having pizza with some neighbors they had met earlier in the day. Fitz was introduced to everyone, and then they made their way upstairs. He hit his head on the ceiling twice.

"You'll have to be careful with these steps," she said. "Not made for big strong ranch man."

He slapped her butt, and she squealed.

When they got to her room, she watched as he took it all in.

"Pretty tight up here, but I can see why you chose it. Nice and private. Quiet." He glanced out the window. "Not a bad view of campus, either." He saw the frame on her desk.

"Is that your mom?"

She smiled. "Yeah. We've always kind of been the outcasts in my family. She wanted me to have a reminder that I should leave everything, or everyone, behind."

He nodded.

"Do you really think you'll stay away forever?"

She contemplated that.

"I don't know. Do you?"

He hoped so. He really did. His graduate school applications were almost complete. He would work toward getting his PhD in Education while working as a teaching assistant in history and literature classes. It would be difficult, because he knew his parents would not fund further education. As it was, they thought his current studies were a waste of money. He figured that other people his age got loans and figured it out, and he would too.

"Fitz?"

He had been lost in thought.

"I think I'll try." It was the first time he had said it out loud. Ever.

She stepped toward him, reaching one arm out to grab his hand.

"You know, this is a cliché, but you can and should be whatever you want to be. If the ranch can really be run without you, if it's not going to destruct without you, then you should be you."

"That's really nice of you to say," he said. "I just wish my parents would see it that way. They won't."

She sighed. "Should we make out some more? Might that make you feel better?"

He laughed loudly.

"Yes. Yes we should."

* * *

She had wanted to say more, but she also just wanted to be kissing him. It was a feeling unlike any she had ever had, and though she knew it was reckless, she also could not stop herself. They laid on her bed together kissing for another hour, until they both fell asleep. When she woke up and peeked at the clock over his shoulder, she saw that it was 1:30am.

She kissed his cheek softly and whispered his name in his ear.

"Hmmm?" he said.

"It's the morning. Let me walk you home."

"Liv, I'm half asleep but awake enough to tell you that makes no sense."

The nickname again. It had stuck. She liked it even better the second time.

"But," she began. She didn't know how to kick him out without being rude. But she was trying to retain some of her dignity and didn't want him to spend the night. Even though she did.

"Give me a second. I'm fine to walk home. I know a shortcut, found it last night."

"Of course you did," she said, snuggling into his arms for one final hug.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

She thought about her schedule. It was the first day of classes. She didn't start until late morning, but had an evening class on Mondays and Wednesdays this semester. It wouldn't be over until 8:00. She told him as much.

"Evening classes. You'll learn. Tuesday then?"

They made plans for pizza and a movie for two days later, and then he left her in bed with a final kiss and slowly made his way down the steep staircase and into the mild Chicago night.

She thought about what had transpired, unable to fall back to sleep right away. Had they really just agreed to see only each other after one date? Why was she so okay with this, and not questioning it? Why was he such a good kisser? Had she been missing out on this for years? She fell asleep thinking about the feeling of his hands on her things in the alley. Smiling.

In the morning, she finally had to face the questions of her roommates. She answered them as best she could. Emily, in true wannabe reporter fashion, grilled her, much to Jo's delight. She was honest with her friends about everything: the kisses, the feelings, the conversations.

"So, you've found yourself a boyfriend before classes even start! This is incredible. From zero to a million in three days," Emily said.

"Is he my boyfriend?" Olivia asked. Was that what it was called?

"Yes!" both girls said in unison, and the three of them started laughing.

"I don't know what to do next," she said. "But I'm not sure he does either."

"You'll figure it out," Jo said. "I knew when I met him there was something different about him. That's why I invited him and his roommates last year. He's a nice guy, Olivia."

"I know. You're right."

"And you're a nice girl. Don't let him mess with you," Emily said.

"Noted."

"Should we go?"

Olivia and Emily had some classes together given they were both in the journalism school. Soon, their paths would diverge when Emily worked toward broadcasting and Olivia focused on writing. It was fun though, for now, to have a friend to walk with to and from class. To commiserate about the workload or frustrating classmates.

* * *

Fitz left his last class in the late afternoon and headed to the recreation center to work out. He purposely took his time and even threw in a swim at the end of his workout. When he emerged to the setting sun, it was just before 8:00. He began jogging.

When she exited the campus building carrying just a book and a notebook, with a small purse around her body diagonally, his heart fluttered. He had tried to describe how she made him feel to Drew and Tyler that morning, but of course could use the word flutter. He had said she was different. She made him feel more honest. She made him feel good. And she was damn sexy. He had to include that, because it was obvious.

She didn't see him, so he called for her. She turned slowly, trying but failing to mask her smile.

"Is it Tuesday?" she said as he walked toward her.

"It is not. But I was free, and I wanted to see you. I know you want to study and get off to a good start. I'll just walk you home, if that's okay."

"It's more than okay," she said, rising on her toes to kiss him. She only had one free arm, so he used his to pull her toward him, pressing her book and notebook in between them. It didn't matter that the book was digging into his stomach, or that her feet were cramping. They kissed as if it had been days, not hours, since they had last seen each other.

"Hi," he said. "How was your day?"

"Not bad for day one. You?"

They started walking.

"Same. Couple of classes, got a workout in."

"What're you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Walking my beautiful girlfriend home. Probably working on my graduate school applications. I have an early class tomorrow."

"Girlfriend?" she looked at him.

He stopped and looked at her.

"It's okay. I'm okay with it. I figured. I just haven't had anyone say that except for my roommates this morning, so it's sinking in."

"And?"

"I like it," she said, kissing his cheek. She just couldn't stop kissing him. "Boyfriend."

They walked in silence the rest of the way to her house, decided on a meeting time for tomorrow. She would meet at his house after class, as it was the most convenient.

As he walked home, he felt the floating feeling again. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He hoped it was her and was disappointed to see his home telephone number on the screen.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Fitzgerald, hi. How was your first day, honey?" His mom always used his full name. It had been her father's name.

"Good. Quite well. Weather's great up here, teachers seem good so far. How are you, Mom?"

"We're good. Gearing up for a long week, you know, the usual."

"How's Heidi? Did you talk to her yet? I haven't had a chance to try and reach her."

"She's well. Joined a sorority, of course. Seems good."

He shook his head. Of course.

"Listen, I'm calling because we got an interesting post card here at the house. I intercepted it, but you know I can't keep it from your father."

He racked his brain.

"Postcard?"

"Yes. From Vanderbilt University, indicating they received your application."

He exhaled.

"Mom, it's," he began.

"I don't care what it is, honey."

"But you just said you're going to tell Dad. Shouldn't you know what it is you're telling him?"

She sighed. "Watch your tone, Fitzgerald."

"I'm sorry. Mom, I'm in the process of applying to some graduate schools, Vanderbilt being one. They must have used my permanent address and that is the reason for the postcard."

There was silence on the other end.

"Mom?"

He waited. There was a click.

"Mom?"

She had hung up. He groaned and made his way inside. He knew tomorrow and the days to come would be long. His future plans were being made public much sooner than he had hoped, and he had to think about the best way to approach it with his dad.

His phone buzzed again. It was Olivia. He let it go to voicemail, then regretted it immediately. He texted her goodnight and said he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. It was true. After what would surely be a long day, pizza and movie, alone with Olivia, would be the perfect way to end it.


	4. Chapter 4

The first few weeks of the school year were a blur for Fitz. He was either with Olivia, thinking about her or trying to calm his family down regarding his choice of careers. The conversation he had with his father following the receipt of the Vanderbilt postcard had gone exactly as he had thought. A lot of yelling on his dad's part, with insults and "You've never been enoughs," and "We deserve betters." The last time they had spoken, Fitz had been blatantly honest.

"You know what, Dad? Maybe I'm not enough. You're right. I'm not cut out for ranch life. We can agree on this."

"You have got to be kidding me, Fitz. Are they teaching you this wordsmithing up there in Chicago? You have never tried hard enough. Everyone around understands the order of things. You seem to want to go against the grain just to spite me."

"That is not true. I resent that."

"And I resent you basically disowning your family."

"Come on, Dad. That's not what this is. I just want something different."

"Don't we all."

Fitz hadn't been able to contain his anger.

"Look. I'm sorry your own son is failing you. I'm sorry you see anything I do as a failure if it doesn't fit into your plans. But the ranch will be fine. You will be fine. I wish you had a different son, too. One that just did what you wanted. But you got me."

"I did. And you're a disappointment. That you would break your mother's heart like this," his father began.

"No. No. This just proves I'm making valid points if you're willing to play the Mom card so soon. I understand you don't agree with my choices. But they're mine. I'm not disowning you. I'm just on a different path than the rest of you."

"It's not that simple, Fitz."

"Why? Why can't it be? Why can't you just say, 'You know, I wish you were coming home but I respect your decision,' why is that so hard?"

"Because you're needed here. I've told you this a thousand times. You're my son. My legacy. You should be running the ranch, not your cousin, not your sister for crying out loud."

"I disagree."

"I will not be paying for this frivolous course you are on. Enjoy the Grant money while it lasts, son. The end is near."

"Got it."

"What? You think it'll be easy?"

"I don't. I think it will be really hard. But did you think I expected anything other than this exact reaction from you? You've been nothing but angry and avoidant when I bring up the future for four years. You barely looked at me when you drove away from Northwestern for the first and only visit here. Despite what you might think, I'm not an idiot, Dad."

"Maybe not. But you're acting like one."

And for what felt like the millionth time, Fitz was left holding the phone to his ear with nobody from his family on the other end.

* * *

Olivia was trying her best to adjust to having a boyfriend. It was hard to balance wanting to spend all of her time with Fitz with the necessities of college: studying, attending class, group meetings. They had managed to each other almost every day during the week, even if it was just for coffee or a quick meal. Fitz didn't seem stressed by the same things. He was working on his graduate school applications and dealing with his family, but classes, for him, were easy. He was an expert listener. Just sitting at a lecture, listening and engaging in discussion, and the information stayed with him. That combined with his finesse for writing helped him do well on assignments and exams.

As she knocked on the door to his house after her last class on Friday afternoon, she expected Fitz to answer. She could hear the foosball table being used. She knocked again. Finally, Trey came to the door.

"Hi, Olivia. Sorry, we were in the middle of a game," he said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Hey, I get it. Foosball matters. Is he here?" she said, taking off the light jacket she had worn that day.

"He is. We heard him on the phone. He's in his room."

"Thanks, Trey," she said. "Hi guys," she said, waving to Andrew and Tyler. "Sorry to interrupt."

They smiled and waved as she walked by. When she got to Fitz's door, she knocked. She didn't usually, but she wondered if he was still on the phone and didn't want to startle him.

She heard a muffled "Come in," and opened the door slowly.

He was splayed on the bed, face down, with his head under a pillow. She rolled her eyes a little and giggled.

"Hi there," she said, dropping her bag.

"Hi," he said, not moving.

"May I join you?"

"You may."

She slipped off her shoes and crawled onto the bed, lifting his arm and squirming her way under it. She started to do the same with his leg, and then he finally acquiesced and turned to hold her.

"Hi," he said again.

"Hi." She smoothed his hair, which was mussed, having been under a pillow.

"Another hang up," he said. He had been telling Olivia about his conversations with his parents.

"Another one? This has to be a record. Your dad?"

Fitz nodded.

"Did you try to be honest but not harsh?"

He smiled, remembering her advice. "I did. I said a lot more than I usually do in the least harsh way I could think of. But I'm a disappointment and he wishes he could just force me to be who he wishes I was."

"I'm sorry, Fitz," she said, running her hands through his hair.

"I know."

"It's all you can do."

"You're right."

"Maybe, but I know it's hard. I'm sorry you're going through this."

"It was inevitable. It's just taxing. I want this part to be over."

"It will be eventually," she said.

"How was your day? Thanks for coming over."

"It was good. You're welcome. Want to go get a movie?"

"Let's go see one," he said, sitting up.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. The walk will be good, and I need to get out of this room."

* * *

Fitz found himself immediately calmed and aroused by spending time in the movie theater with Olivia. He could see the outline of her face, her delicate features, he eyelashes, the curve of her smile as she watched the movie. Occasionally, she would notice him watching.

"Fitz, the movie," she whispered.

"I like you better," he whispered back.

She rolled her eyes, but shifted in her seat to make it so that their bodies were touching. His hand on her thigh was searing a mark that she feared would never go away. She was enjoying the move, sure, but she was also distracted by the man to her left.

When the credits rolled, they both cleaned up their snacks without a word and joined hands as they walked down Main Street toward Fitz's house.

"So, that was good," she said.

"Hmm."

"You have no thoughts on the movie? The dreaded twist you could see coming from the first minute? The sort-of funny protagonist? Nothing?"

"I told you, I like you better than all of it."

She playfully hit his shoulder. "Fitz, movies aren't cheap anymore. We should have just stayed home."

"Oh no," he said, stopping and drawing her to him. "I wanted to clear my head. Sitting with you in a dark room with a mindless movie in the background was the perfect way to do that."

He kissed her softly.

"So you're coming over, right?" he asked, as they started walking again.

"For a little bit, if that's okay."

"It's always okay."

They made their way to Fitz's house, where his roommates had decided to have a small gathering of people. Some were playing a drinking card game, some were playing foosball. Olivia and Fitz socialized for a little while before he signaled with a single raised eyebrow that he had had enough.

They were kissing before his bedroom door was even closed. Olivia had had one and a half beers and was already a little tipsy, but Fitz wasn't drunk at all. For that reason, he didn't take advantage of her, despite his body urging him to do so. They had been taking their relationship slowly, which was fine with him. But it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

"Liv," Fitz said, holding his face in her hands, looking at her closely.

She opened her eyes slowly and batted her long eyelashes.

"Yes?"

"I think we should take a breath."

"I'm breathing. I'm alive. No worries," she said smiling, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him again.

He laughed.

"I mean, I'm trying to be a gentleman. But my bed is the only place for us to be in here, and that's dangerous territory."

She put her hands on her hips. "Why?"

"Why? Because you are stunning and I am infatuated with you and only like you more every day."

She tapped her fingers on her hips.

"I see."

"Good. So maybe we can watch a movie? Or go back out there?"

"Fitz, are you a twenty-two year old man in a committed relationship with a 20 year old bombshell from Connecticut?"

"Yes," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And have you slept with anyone since you met her?"

"I have not."

With that, she put her arms around his neck slowly, forcing him to unhook his arms and put them around her waist.

"Then make love to me," she whispered in his ear, causing every hair on his body to stand on end and every fiber of his being to go on high alert.

"Liv," he began.

"You don't want to?" she said, still in a hushed tone.

Without a word, he kissed her fiercely and guided them the short distance to his bed. They giggled as they kicked off their shoes and kissed each other's necks, cheeks and arms. Fitz took his time running his hands up and down Olivia's sides before slowly removing her shirt, revealing a simple cotton black bra. So Olivia. So perfect. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, causing her to squirm and hang on to his hair as she lifted her chin and made it easier to access her body. She moved one hand to his waist and started to make her way up his muscular back.

"Holy shit," Fitz said, pulling back.

"What?" Olivia asked, alarmed.

"Your hands are freezing! How can anyone have hands that cold and be as hot as you?"

"Shut up! I don't know. Why are you asking me this when you should be kissing me?"

"This is a science question. Maybe we should call up your dad, see what he thinks. Circulation maybe?"

"You really just brought up my dad? Are you trying to kill the mood?"

Fitz sighed. Olivia was shocked.

"You are, aren't you?"

He kissed her collarbone. "I'm not. I'm just nervous."

"Why?"

"Because you're you."

"Don't do that. Don't put more pressure on this. We both want to do this. Let's not overthink it."

"You know, you sound like a guy."

"I sound like a girl who desperately wants to have sex with her boyfriend."

Fitz smiled. He loved her forwardness. She knew what she wanted and what to say to get it. Not just in this moment, but in life. It was one of the things he liked about her. Loved about her. That thought caused him to shudder.

"What?" she asked, becoming exasperated.

"Nothing," he said, slowly removing one of her bra straps, and kissing her shoulder.

"Good," she said, sliding his shirt over his head.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, they both were laying underneath sheet, their legs tangled together, breathing heavily.

"That was much better than my previous experience," Olivia said in between breaths.

"Good to know," Fitz said, busting out laughing.

Olivia turned on her side. "What's so funny?"

"You're so business-like. Like this was a transaction we just completed."

"I'm sorry. I was nervous too. I'm just glad it was," she trailed off.

"What, Liv?"

"I'm glad it was how I thought it might be, which was amazing."

He smiled.

"It was."

They kissed softly. Fitz leaned over her and turned off the light, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Olivia's cell phone alarm went off early the next morning. She was supposed to go for a walk with her roommates.

"No," Fitz said, puling her to him.

"Emily is waiting for me. I have to go. You can come with me, or wait here. Or maybe we could go to the dock when I'm done?" She ran her hands through his hair.

"Dock. I'll bring bagels. Love you."

He said it without thinking. He was half asleep, really. He just said it.

"Shit, Liv, I'm just talking here, don't worry," he started.

She laid back down with him.

"You love me?" she said, her eyes wide, he hands on either side of his face.

He nodded. "But," and she stopped him with a kiss before he could continue.

"I love you." She said it confidently, smiling.

He brought his forehead to hers.

"You do?"

"Of course. You're you. And you make me happy. And I didn't really know how I'd know what love was, but as it turns out I just needed to feel it."

He shook his head. "I love your practicality."

"I love your determination," she countered.

"I love your lips," he said.

"I love your forearms," she said, running her fingers softly up and down his arms.

"I love when you ignore alarms and stay in bed with me."

She shook her head. "Bagels, one hour. See you then."

He reluctantly let her go.

* * *

As he made his way to the dock with a bag of bagels and juice and oatmeal raisin cookies from their favorite deli, he had a spring in his step. Yes, he had just had sex with his girlfriend for the first time, and for the first time in almost six months. But they had also said they loved each other, and it had come so easily. He couldn't imagine it being any easier. He should have known that it was to easy.

He approached Olivia on the dock and heard her sniffles before she turned. When she flipped her sunglasses to her head, he saw that she had been crying.

"Liv?" he said, dropping the food and approaching her.

"Maybe this is too soon," she said, looking at him with questioning eyes.

He sighed, took her hand, and helped her sit on the dock. He would get to the bottom of how the strong, confident Liv had turned into the unsure girl before him if it took him all day and all night.


	5. Chapter 5

All of the confidence Olivia had felt the previous night and on her walk with Emily was immediately erased when she received a text message from her mother. Her mom was just learning to text, and when Olivia had heard the beep after texting her that she had some boy news to share, she had been smiling, both because of the news she had shared and because her mom had somehow figured out how to respond. But her mom's response was anything but positive. It was admonishing her for being distracted from her studies and for being so flippant about sharing this type of news. Olivia had never heard her mother use the word flippant. And even though she hadn't shared any details, she had expected her mother to at least be a little bit excited for her. She didn't have time to call her back if she wanted to meet Fitz on time, and she did. But of course, she began crying on the way over, questioning herself. And that made her angry. Angry because she had been so uncharacteristically confident with Fitz, so sure that it was right, and it had take one short, simple text from her mother to crush her.

"Liv?" she heard Fitz coming up behind her. She had no choice but to show him her eyes. Her feelings. She wasn't sure how to express what she was feeling.

"Maybe this is too soon," was all she could say, even though she didn't really believe it.

She was internally grateful when he took her hand and sat with her, instead of freaking out or turning in the other direction.

"Talk to me," he said, putting his arm around her. She put her head on his shoulder.

"Yesterday was," she said, and she was having a hard time finding the words that had come so easily just an hour before.

Fitz waited. She loved that about him. He just waited for her to be ready. He didn't speak for her. He didn't guess. He just waited.

"Yesterday and this morning, I felt so loved. And good. And like I was in the right place, at the right time, with the right person."

Fitz sighed. "Me too."

"And walking with Emily and Jo, and sharing it with them, that felt right. Normal, for someone my age. Maybe not for me, but for others. And I was so excited to tell my mom. Like she would be happy that I was having this normal college experience. But she had the complete opposite reaction. And it's frustrating and leaves me questioning myself." She looked at him.

"How do you feel about last night?" Fitz asked.

She looked at him quizzically. "Really good."

"How are you feeling right now, about me, us?"

"Good," she said, picking a piece of string off of his t-shirt.

"Then I feel like, unless you become so obsessed with me that you can no longer kick ass in class, this is something you can handle. If I thought you were worried about us, or that you felt rushed or pressured, I might have something else to say. But I think we both agree that this," he said, kissing her on the cheek, "is pretty great. And until it interferes, it's about the best thing going in my life. And," he said, taking her sunglasses and putting them on the dock, "our parents aren't here. So their level of disapproval, while frustrating, doesn't really have to affect us."

She was squinting. "Can I have my glasses?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, and before she knew it, he was pulling her into the water after him. She couldn't help but laugh. It was refreshing after her exercise, but it also felt like she was washing away the nastiness of her mother's communication.

"So, are we okay?" Fitz asked as they treaded water.

"Yes," Olivia replied, trying to kiss him.

They both laughed, and with Fitz's help they made their way back onto the dock to enjoy their breakfast.

* * *

He had tried to take the situation seriously but also get Olivia to a place of not placing too much value on the opinion of others. It seemed like it had worked. Plus, it had ended with her in a t-shirt that was sticking to her beautiful body and that never hurt him, either.

It helped matters that he had a deep understanding of having parents disapprove. He knew what it felt like to be judged unfairly. And he also was falling head over heels with Olivia and would have said just about anything to keep her with him.

When they were finished eating, they made their way to a local elementary school and sat down on the swings. Immediately, Olivia started pumping her legs, soaring higher and higher into the air. Fitz just watched. He was a sight to behold.

"I used to have jumping contests with my brothers all of the time," she said. "They both ended up with broken arms trying to beat me." The memory made her laugh and made him love her a little more.

"I'm not taking that bait," he said, smiling.

"You're a smart man," she said, flinging herself onto the ground about ten feet away from the swing set and somehow landing on her feet. Fitz clapped. Olivia bowed.

She walked over to him and squeezed onto his swing, so that she was straddling him.

"You always say the right things, you know that?" she said, looking deeply into his eyes.

"Not always." He was being sincere.

"Today you're batting a million," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Pretty easy to do when it comes to you," he said, putting his hands on her bottom and scooting her toward him.

"Thanks for understanding. And for not bolting."

"Thank you for not bolting," he said.

"I didn't want to. I just need to sort it out."

"I knew. I know. Liv," he said, looking at her.

"I love you, Fitz," she said.

He smiled. "Now who knows what to say?"

They began kissing, limited in their movements due to their precarious position on the swing. She hooked her ankles around him and pressed herself as close to him as she could, and that drove him wild. She could feel how wild and pulled back.

"My house?" she said.

Without a word, he stood up, with Olivia still hooked around him. She laughed and put her legs down.

"I know you said I'm light as a feather, but we have a bit of walk. Or we could jog," she said, eyeing him.

"And if I win?" he said, looking at her.

"You can see me naked."

He smiled. "And if you win?"

"I can take off these wet clothes."

With that, she began a quick jog and he followed. They weren't really racing. They were jostling each other, stopping to kiss periodically, before they rounded the corner to the street where her coach house was located. Fitz sped up, beating Olivia by a hair.

They were both panting as she opened the front door. Emily, Jo and Emily's boyfriend Sean were packing up a bag to go to the beach.

"Hey guys!" Jo said. "We're heading to Montrose. Text me, um, later, if you want to try and find us."

"Will do," Olivia said, blowing them both kisses as she ran up the stairs.

Fitz stopped in the room to introduce himself to Sean.

"Fitz! You're too polite!" Olivia called from upstairs.

He looked around the room. "Duty calls," he said, and everyone laughed. He made his way up to Olivia's room where they were able to expand on what they had learned about each other the previous night and explore each other even more.

* * *

After sleeping with Fitz for the second time, Olivia was more sure than ever that she had done the right thing. Fitz wasn't some random guy she had met at a party. That's how it had started, but it was already so much more than that. He had insecurities, he had shared them with her that night on her porch. But somehow they fit with hers. He wasn't forced to be egoistical or closed-off with her, and she wasn't forced to pretend she had more experience than she did with him.

And his kisses. And his hands. And his body. It was all good.

Of course, the spell was broken by the ringing of Olivia's phone. She figured it was a family member, because anyone who would call her was either in her bed or at the beach. She looked at the caller identification, and sure enough, it showed 'Simone Pope' as being the caller.

"You don't have her in there as 'Mom?'" Fitz asked softly.

"What?" Olivia wasn't sure what he meant.

"My mom and dad are in my phone under those names. It's just, I don't know, interesting that you have it differently."

Olivia thought for a second. Things had always been somewhat formal in her family. Even her mother, who was her closest ally, who had given her a framed picture of the two of them at the beginning of the year to remind her of home, was usually an arm's length away.

"I hadn't thought about it. But it's just how we are, I guess," she said, silencing her phone.

Olivia liked that Fitz didn't tell her to answer. He gave her the time and space to deal with it however she wanted. She curled up next to him.

"Beach?" she said.

"Sure. Can we go in a few minutes?"

"Definitely. What's up?" she asked, trying to prop herself up, thinking he wanted to talk.

But he didn't want to. He kissed her from head to toe and left her feeling warm and lightheaded for the rest of the day.

* * *

Fitz and his roommates were throwing a party to watch a football game that evening, so Olivia headed home after the beach to freshen up. When he entered the house, Andrew pointed to a box in the foyer.

"Hey man, that arrived for you today. Heavy as all get-out."

"Thanks. How long do I have to get the keg?"

"Guests should be here in an hour."

"I'm on it."

Fitz lifted the box, and it was heavy but nothing he couldn't handle, so he carried it back to his room. He needed to shower and pick up the keg, so the box would have to wait. The return address, written in his mother's handwriting, was another reason to put off opening it.

* * *

When Olivia got out of the shower, she finally listened to her mother's message.

"Hello, Olivia. It's your mom. About my text earlier, which I'm assuming you received given that you didn't reply or answer my earlier calls. I want you to know I reacted without thinking. Of course I want to hear about a boy. Of course I do. I'm sorry I reacted that way. But you know I worry about you. Please call me back. Love you, sweetie."

Olivia found herself both relieved but also nervous for some reason. It was nice to hear her mom acknowledge the overreaction, but also odd for her to simply apologize with no discussion. She looked at the clock on her phone. She didn't have time to call her mom back, so she sent her a text saying she would call her in the morning.

* * *

Olivia woke up in Fitz's bed with a headache. She had had more beers than ever, but it had been fun. The hangover, her first, was not fun. She kissed him on the cheek and left a note on an old piece of mail on his desk. Having spent all day with him, she had to get back and spend Sunday studying. She didn't mind. It was how she usually spent her Sundays anyway.

She was shocked to see her father sitting in a rental car on the street near her house. She was glad she had run her hands through her hair, but anyone with a brain could see she was doing the walk of shame.

She knocked on the window.

"Dad?"

He put the window down.

"Hi Olivia. I just got here a few minutes ago and your roommate told me you had run to the store. Were they out of what you needed?" he said, looking at her empty hands. She cursed herself for not carrying a purse.

Olivia was speechless. Her father turned off the car.

"I'm sure you're surprised to see me."

This gave her an opening, something she could respond to.

"Of course I am. Your visits are usually planned down to the minute, and I've only been gone a few weeks. Is everything okay?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said.

"Everything's great, actually," she said, trying to stay firm, even though her knees were shaking a little.

"The text you sent your mother yesterday was alarming. I'm glad I was able to intercept it."

There it was. It made a lot more sense now. She knew her mom wouldn't use the word flippant.

"Why is it alarming? So I met someone? I'm still ahead in most of my classes. I'm living a typical college life." Olivia said this somewhat shakily.

"Typical for some, maybe. But you left typical behind when you came out here. If you want to stay, you need to meet, no, you need to exceed the expectations we have for you. I'm, no, we're, your mother and me, concerned that you are becoming distracted."

"How would you even know? Didn't I just say I'm doing fine in my classes? The year just started. Why are you so concerned that I might have met a guy I like spending time with?" She hated trivializing her relationship with Fitz like this, but she couldn't tell her dad how far she had fallen. It would only make things worse.

Caleb Pope stepped out of the car.

"Olivia, I have let you be your own person for your whole life. Even when I didn't understand it. Even when it went against all that I had planned for you. But I worry that you're heading down an unfamiliar path and that you're in over your head."

Olivia shook her head. "Dad, this makes no sense. I'm a sophomore. I'm doing fine. I'm doing wonderfully! I tell Mom I have a boyfriend and you're on the next flight? This doesn't add up. I'm still your daughter. I know I have responsibilities and I take them very seriously. Not because you told me to, but because that's who I am. Why are you here?" She held her chin up and made eye contact with her dad and noticed for the first time that he looked weary. Wearier than usual.

"Olivia, look. I know you and I have had our differences, but you know I've always tried to support you."

"I know," she said softly, then making eye contact with him added, "I'm grateful to be here."

He nodded.

"Olivia, you're right, this reaction I had to your text. It's about more than just you being distracted. Which still bothers me."

It was her turn to nod.

"It's your mother."

* * *

Fitz read Olivia's note and then decided it was time to open the box his mother had mailed to him.

When he finally removed all of the packing tape and pulled the top of the box open, he found stacks of papers. They were all from banks, lenders, brokers and a quick perusal made it clear that the ranch was being put up for sale. It didn't make sense. The land was paid for. The work that was done on the land paid for itself and provided for his entire family with money to spare. There was no note from his mom to accompany the documents, so Fitz had a lot of questions. He was about to pick up his cell phone to call his father when there was a knock at the door. He threw on a t-shirt and made his way to the front, realizing the place had not been cleaned up post-party and that his roommates were all still sleeping. He thought perhaps it was a guest who had forgotten something. Or maybe Olivia. When he opened the door, he saw the last person he would have expected. His father.


	6. Chapter 6

"Dad. What are you doing here?" Fitz asked with genuine surprise.

"May I come in?" Fitzgerald II asked.

"Sure. It's messy at the moment. We had a gathering last night to watch the game."

"Of course. Your sister sent a photograph from her at Oklahoma's game. Your mother was somehow able to pull it up on the computer. It's also a 'gathering' atmosphere."

Fitz laughed quietly. Despite being rough and strict, his dad had come to understand why Fitz and Heidi had needed to attend college. The allure of it. To have one final blaze of glory before returning to ranch life forever. Or so he hoped.

"How is Heidi? I haven't spoken to her in a week or so."

"She's well. She told us she is declaring a major next week. Environmental studies with a minor in sociology."

Fitz nodded. She had told him this. She still planned on returning to the ranch, but was hoping to use it as more of a stopping point to eventually working for an environmental agency of some sort. He was sure that plan had not yet been shared with their parents, and he supported the withholding of the information. As hard as it was for him to blaze the trail of disobedience, he loved his sister and was happy to do it first. College. A non-ranching major. The thought of not returning.

"That's great."

"Sure. She seems happy," Fitz's dad said, sitting down on the couch. He moved a few red plastic cups on the coffee table and took his wallet and phone out of the his pocket and set them on the table.

"What's going on Dad? I'm surprised to see you."

His dad started to respond, but Fitz interjected.

"Not upset, just surprised."

"I can imagine. Where to begin? It's convoluted, really. We got your postcard from Vanderbilt. You know my feelings on that. But we were prepared to let that simmer and deal with it when necessary. But then I run into Bob Jones in town on a run for some cleaning supplies, and he tells me that he ran into your mother at the post office. And that she had been mailing you a box full of papers. So that gets my mind rolling and of course your mother caves as soon as I ask her, and I realize she has shared all of the information about the ranch with you as some sort of ploy to get you back there. So I looked at my schedule and saw I had the time, we don't move the horses for another two weeks, and I thought I'd come explain it."

"Does Mom know you're here?"

"She does."

Fitz nodded. And waited. He had learned that skill from his dad.

"Look, you're smart, so I'm sure you've realized that the ranch is going to be put on the market."

"I could see that from a glance at the paperwork. But I don't," Fitz began.

"You don't know why."

"Right. I was just there working. It seemed to be running as smoothly as ever."

"It is. It was. I just decided that if you couldn't or wouldn't run it after you're done up here, that I didn't trust anyone else to do it."

"Why? What about Abram, or Jason or Oliver?" Fitz asked about his cousins, all near his age and all plenty used to work on the ranch.

"I just don't want it to leave our family. It was my great-grandfather, then his son, then your grandpa, then me. It's yours, or it's gone."

Fitz swallowed.

"So financially, everything is fine?"

His dad nodded. "Sure. I'm not an idiot. I run that ranch like my life depends on it, because it does."

"Look, Dad. I suppose I should say that I respect that you don't trust anyone but me to run the ranch. But this feels an awful lot like blackmail to me. All of that history, the legacy, the land? You're willing to toss it because I want to pursue teaching instead of ranching?"

"That you see it as blackmail shows me just how far you've gone. I see it as loyalty. As understanding of your responsibility. That you don't understand this decision," his dad said.

"But answer me. If I said right now that I would come back, would you change your mind?"

"Of course."

"Then it is blackmail! You fly up here, tell me this, the box of documents. And I'm human, Dad, so of course I feel bad about it. I don't want you to give up the ranch."

"Then come home."

"It's not that simple. I'm two semesters from graduating, I've applied to graduate schools. And it's not what I want. I want to be a teacher! I want to read and write. I don't want to live on the ranch for the rest of my life. I know it was rewarding for you. I don't diminish that in the slightest. But it's not what I want."

"It's not about wanting, Fitzgerald!" his father's voice boomed.

"It's about loyalty, right, I got that."

"Why is it so easy for you to turn your back on this family?"

"Who said I am? You're the one who told me I'm cut off if I don't follow the path you want for me. I love you, Dad, despite it all, and I love Mom and Heidi. I would never turn my back on you. But that doesn't mean," Fitz was interrupted.

"It means exactly what I said. That you don't care enough about this family's legacy to step up and do the right thing. You want to read and write? Plenty of time for that when you aren't working and doing what generations of Grants have done before you."

Fitz shook his head. This was the same battle they had been having for years. Except with much higher stakes. He had been steamrolled.

"Look, Dad. Don't do this. Don't put this burden on me. If you don't trust them, or can't wait for Heidi, or whatever, hire someone. Or sell. But don't do it because I won't follow your orders. That isn't fair. I understand that you don't approve of my choices. But they're mine. This choice is yours and has nothing to do with me. Please."

His father stood up.

"It goes on the market December 1 after our busy season. Unless I hear from you first. See you at Thanksgiving."

Fitz stood.

"Dad, come on, wait."

His father stood in the foyer of the small house.

"You're just leaving?"

"Why would I stay?"

Fitz wanted to say so many things. That there had to be a way. A compromise. But he knew there wasn't. So he just put out his hand and his father returned the gesture with a firm handshake.

"Safe travels. Give Mom a hug for me."

And with that, his dad was back to his rental car and presumably back to the ranch. The ranch whose future was now in Fitz's hands, fair or not.

* * *

"What about Mom?" Olivia asked, cover her eyes with her hand to help filter out the sun.

"She's going through something. She's not herself."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine, physically. But when we got home from dropping you off, she started making all of these little changes. She picked up more photography clients. She rented studio space in Hartford. She took more day trips to New York. And I couldn't figure out why, but then last week she told me she needed to talk."

Olivia nodded. "And?"

"I don't want to speak for her, but basically she wants more out of life. Apparently what I gave her, am giving her, isn't enough. She said she saw you here, carving a place for yourself, and realized that she had never done the same."

Olivia was stunned. Her mother's quiet behavior when they had dropped her off in Evanston made more sense now, as did her voicemail from last night.

"So we're working on it. But then I get that text from you," her father continued.

"It wasn't for you," Olivia interrupted.

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me. I was sharing something with Mom because she's my mother. She has always understood me the most. And I'm sorry, but most 20 year old girls don't tell their dads when they think they're falling in love."

"Love?" Caleb Pope had to put a hand on the hood of the car.

"Don't sound so surprised, Dad. It was going to happen eventually."

Olivia had regained her confidence. Her mother wasn't sick, or leaving. She was just trying to find herself. And that her dad didn't have control of the situation was killing him. This wasn't about her having a boyfriend. It was bigger than that. Bigger, but also so silly.

"You need to focus, Olivia. You are here for two and half more years, and then you'll come back, find a job and make a respectable life for yourself. Stop with the games."

"No, Dad. You stop with the games."

He was shocked that she was talking back.

"This is ridiculous. You're mad at your youngest child because you are frustrated that your wife has decided to have a life of her own. Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I find it inspiring that Mom is exploring her passions. And though I thank you for attributing that to me, you aren't giving Mom enough credit. She's a strong, beautiful woman who makes decisions for herself."

"Olivia, look," he tried again.

"No. I won't stand here and listen to this. You're frustrated. And I actually understand it. But I have a life here, I'm building one, and I can handle it."

Her dad was quiet.

"Olivia," he said, softer, "I'm just afraid that I'm losing your mother. And that means I'll lose you, too."

She shook her head. For someone so smart, he was so dense about human relationships.

"Dad, you're my dad. Where am I going to go? Just because I'm not like the boys doesn't mean I'll be a failure. And just because Mom decided to be more busy doesn't mean you're losing her."

He looked at her. She could tell her didn't really believe her.

"I hear you."

"That's good," she said. "Do you want to come inside? Or maybe grab breakfast?"

He sighed. "Breakfast sounds good. My flight is in four hours."

"Dad! You should have just called!"

"Olivia, I'm worried."

"I know. But it's going to be okay."

With that, Olivia walked around to the passenger side of the car and they made their way to her favorite diner. She found it somewhat fitting that her father, scientific genius, was so befuddled by his wife and daughter.

* * *

Fitz sat on the couch for a few minutes after his dad left, trying to process all that had just occurred. He was angry. Sad. Disappointed. Confused. He needed to talk to Olivia.

His first message was veiled as a check-in, just to see how she was doing.

His second message, after not hearing from her, indicated he needed to talk.

His third message, following a very short reply from her that she'd be free in two hours, inquired about her whereabouts.

His fourth message indicated he was coming to find her. He did not get her reply, and therefore was shocked to see her sitting at a table, still in last night's clothes (which made him smile just a little), across from her father.

* * *

Olivia was taking a bite of toast when she saw Fitz enter the restaurant. She had to do her best not to choke immediately, to chew and swallow without panicking. She had just gotten her dad to start talking about the usual Caleb Pope topics – science, research, politics – and in walks her new boyfriend. Granted, he was incredibly handsome, even in last night's clothes. But he was extremely good-looking. And older. And Southern. And not black. All of those factors contributed to her panic. But as he made eye contact with her and smiled, she felt her heart flutter. And so even though she knew he was entering the lion's den, she smiled back, wiped the crumbs from her mouth, and stood to greet him with a small hug.

"Dad, this is Fitz Grant, the man I was telling you about this morning," Olivia said, with as much sturdiness as she could muster.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pope," Fitz said, offering his hand as Olivia's dad rose from the booth to do the same.

"You as well, Fitz," he said, "Please, join us."

In that moment, Olivia was grateful that manners and respect had been ingrained in her from birth. Even though she knew her dad was most likely fuming inside, he was polite.

Fitz sat next to Olivia, and the waitress who had noticed his arrival took his order.

"May I have a piece of banana bread and a cup of coffee, please?"

"That's it?" Olivia asked.

"I can see you guys are almost done. I don't want to hold you up."

Olivia smiled.

"So, Dad, like I told you earlier, Fitz is a senior and interested in becoming a professor."

"Right," her dad said. "Have you decided where you will continue your studies?"

"I'm hoping Vanderbilt," Fitz said. "I've applied there, as well as Teachers College. Those are my top choices."

"Columbia. Good school. I've done some work with them."

"Right, in neuroscience, correct?"

Caleb looked pleased that Olivia had shared information about her family with Fitz, and that he remembered. The rest of the conversation flowed nicely. It was mostly formalities, but it was pleasant. Fitz was impressive in person, there was no getting around that. He was a good listener, and though Olivia had witnessed it herself, it was interesting to see him use the skill with her dad. He made eye contact. He answered questions thoughtfully. And he didn't put his arm around her, which meant he must have some sort of sixth sense to understand that this initial meeting was not the place for that.

"Olivia mentioned you grew up on a ranch?"

Fitz nodded and smiled, but Olivia felt right leg tense up, and when she looked down she saw that his right hand was fidgeting with his napkin under the table. She badly wanted to hold his hand. She hoped he could tell.

* * *

When the question of the ranch came up, he did his best to stay calm. He had felt good about their conversation so far. He had expected this might come up. He saw Olivia look at his hand and he looked at her and could tell she knew there was something going on.

"Yes. It's in Oklahoma, and the land and the business has been in my family for many generations."

"Cattle?"

"Mostly. We house some mustangs, but cattle is the biggest commodity for us."

"And your dad still runs it?"

"He does," Fitz said, taking a sip of coffee to try and steady himself. Olivia saw his hand shaking and stepped in.

"Fitz has a sister, actually, who is the same age as me."

That lead the conversation in a different direction – siblings, families – and Fitz was grateful. Thirty minutes later, Olivia's dad looked at his watch.

"Well, I should be getting to the airport. Can I drive you guys home?"

"No, sir. I live nearby. Thank you for the offer."

"Of course. Olivia?"

"Sure, Dad."

Fitz squeezed her thigh and stood.

"Mr. Pope, thank you for breakfast I'm so glad to have been able to meet you."

"Likewise, Fitz. Best of luck with those graduate school applications."

"Thank you, sir."

"Please, call me Caleb."

* * *

Fitz gave Olivia a wink on his way out of the restaurant and then sent a text as he made his way home. His simple three words made her heart happy.

When they pulled up to the Olivia's house, she looked at her dad.

"It was good to see you. I'm sorry you felt like you had to come out here. I hope," she said, but her dad put a hand up to stop her.

"Olivia, you were right before. I overreacted. About your mother. But Fitz. I don't know. Is that the kind of man you see yourself with?"

She sighed. She did not feel like having this conversation in the front seat of a rental car.

"Yes, Dad. Did you ever wonder why I never dated?"

"I thought it was because you were focused on your studies."

She smiled. "That was part of it. But it was also that I didn't really know what I wanted. Nobody seemed interesting enough. Or nice enough. But Fitz is both of those things, and he treats me well, and we have fun together." She was oversimplifying it, but this was her dad, not her best friend.

"I can tell he has manners. And his story is interesting. I just wonder if he's a viable option, long-term."

"He's not a science experiment, Dad. He's my boyfriend. You're just going to have to trust me."

She knew this would not be the last conversation they would have about this. But it was all she could do for now. She leaned over and kissed her dad on the cheek.

"I'm smart, Dad. Maybe not in the same way as you, but I'm smart enough to navigate this. Please. Trust me."

He nodded.

"Love you, Dad," she said, as she opened the car.

"Love you too," he said, still looking somewhat bewildered. He started the car and drove away. Olivia walked back toward the coach house that was home and heard her name being called. She smiled and saw Fitz emerge from the row of pine trees that lined the yard.

"Hi," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "Good to see you. Again," she said, with a little laugh.

He put his strong hands around her waist.

"I'm sorry for crashing breakfast. It's been quite a morning, and I knew seeing you would help, I don't know, center me or something."

"Are you okay?" she said, turning her head a little in a way that made him love her more than he already did.

"For now, yes. Shower?"

She nodded. They walked inside with their arms around each other and up to her room. She still had studying to do. But she had to shower. And that Fitz just so happened to be there was a bonus. She could tell there was something on his mind, but knew that he needed to just process it and that he would bring it up when he was ready. They tiptoed into the bathroom and took a shower that was both refreshing and pleasurable for both of them. After a nap, naked under the soft sheets of her bed, Fitz left with a promise to return for dinner (Thai food) after Olivia finished her work.

* * *

As he made his way back home, he felt an odd sense of calm and disorientation. Olivia was his center. As soon as he said it aloud, he knew that it had become the truth. But the future now suddenly seemed uncertain. He was glad to have the afternoon to think. But he also knew there were only two options: give up his dream and save the ranch, or pursue his planned path and tear his family apart.


End file.
